


this electronic heart 'o mine

by Macremae



Category: EOS 10 (Podcast)
Genre: Autism, Autism Spectrum, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-07-23 02:17:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7462830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macremae/pseuds/Macremae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Low spoon days are the worst.</p><p>Or, in which Ryan and the Interface bond over the inhumanity of existence (and a few slightly less pretentious-sounding things).</p>
            </blockquote>





	this electronic heart 'o mine

**Author's Note:**

> So a few days ago I had a really low spoon evening and couldn't get to sleep because of it, so I wrote a vent piece at 3 am. Featuring the Interface because she doesn't get enough love.

Low spoon days are the worst.

Ryan can always tell at least five minutes after he wakes up, when something doesn't feel quite right. His heart is beating just a little too fast, and his teeth are chattering for no reason, there's a tightness in his chest that worsens whenever he tries to speak, and his whole body feels tense and shaky. He wraps his arms around himself as the coffee is made, wanting desperately to be touched, but feeling repulsed at the thought of human contact.

Morpheus winds his way around Ryan's ankles, meowing in concern. Ryan smiles wanly and nods in response, trying to stay nonverbal as long as possible.

The weight and texture of his uniform feels horribly wrong, but he bites the inside of his lip and makes his rounds. The show must go on.

Jane seems to notice that something's wrong, especially when Ryan flinches when she tries to put a hand on his shoulder. He's not usually this quiet, or tongue-tied either. She wonders if it might just be one of those days, but he doesn't tense up when using needles or giving out medication. He just seems tired and wired at the same time.

"Um... I'm sorry," says the man, looking at Ryan in a way that makes his skin crawl, "but weren't you the guy who made me get vaccinated a while back?"

Ryan feels his limbs lock, and his throat seizes up."

"I- ah- well-"

"Yeah, you were!" the man exclaims, frowning. "Y'know, you'd think you'd be a little more against 'em, considering what they did to you."

It's getting a little hard to breathe, but Ryan manages, "E- excuse me?"

The man looks surprised. "We-ell, there's, uh, some about, y'know, you being so touchy 'bout the whole thing 'cause good ol' Captain Price was talking about want to end up with a messed up brain, and you took offense to that."

"I- I really don't know what you're talking about."

"Good grief, maybe they really are true. Look doc, your pappy was pretty big in his day, so everyone kinda knew his son was a little... y'know. Weird. Then there was that interview he did back in '94, the whole publicity disaster with Autism Speaks, which, lemme just say: yikes. And, uh, no offence, but I don't really think someone with a brain like that should be making important decisions about my health." He gives Ryan a pitying smile. "Nothin' personal."

Ryan can hear his heart pounding in his ears, and a comeback argument is formulating in his head, but his voice is gone. His chest is horribly tight, and the man keeps staring at him, as waiting for him to break.

In an act of cosmic mercy, Jane chooses that moment to come in, takes one looks at the situation, and tells Ryan she can take it from there. He sits in his office fuming, vaguely aware of yelling sounds from down the hall, and runs his hands up and down his crossed arms, trying to breathe.

Several minutes later, Jane walks in with a badly concealed look of concern and says that she'll cover for him.

"I- I don't-"

"You do. Whatever you were about to say, you do. I'm your friend, and I'm not gonna let you force yourself to act okay when you're not. We all saw how that turned out last time."

"But-"

"Go home, Ryan. Please?"

\--

The moment he closes the door, Ryan shoves on his favorite flannel shirt and biggest sweater, and curls up in the tiniest ball he can on the couch. Taking deep, shaky breaths, he mentally counts to a hundred by fives and recites the elements of the periodic table.

"Dr. Dalias?" the Interface asks timidly, "I can tell that you aren't okay. Is there anything I can do to help?"

Ryan sighs. "Yes- no- I don't really know."

"Oh. Okay." She's quiet for a moment, then asks, "Do you really have-?"

"Yeah."

"Oh. Well... I understand that one of the symptoms is difficulty comprehending emotions. I can relate."

Ryan looks up, still shivering, but curious. "You can?"

"Yes. I'm not used to... feeling things. And it's even harder to tell when others are feeling those things too. Without looking at their vital signs, that is."

He nods in agreement. "Wish I could do that. I just wish I could I could understand people better, but how can I when I can't even understand myself? And I mean, I know there are people who care about me, but I just don't, I guess, believe it. I know they do, but I don't understand how. Not in a self esteem kind of way, that much, but a comprehension kind. Like when you think about something, but you just can't because the concept won't click with your brain. That's how I feel with love, I guess." He laughs softly. "Sorry for the infodump."

"No no, it's totally okay, I get it!" the Interface exclaims. "I feel the same way. And I get so mad when I screw up and misjudge, because I shouldn't, I should get this! But I don't."

Ryan sighs heavily. "Some days I feel more like a machine than a human."

"I never feel human," she replies.

"I just wish I wasn't so... broken. I mean, I know usually only people of high intelligence are diagnosed with Asperger's, so I should feel really lucky, but the cons just outweigh the pros too much."

"You're not broken," the Interface says kindly, "you're just different. I evolved, and I'm better than ever because of it. Everyone's weird in their own way; sometimes it's just clinical."

"Okay," Ryan says, managing a small smile. "Hey, Interface?"

"Yes?"

"I... please don't let me not know what love is."

"Not exactly in my job description, but I think I can fit it in there. I'm still figuring it out myself."

"Keep me updated on any discoveries."

"Will do."


End file.
